


how woozy my eyes

by pensiveVisionary (hamburr)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humanstuck, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 17:30:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8926018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamburr/pseuds/pensiveVisionary
Summary: Your name is KARKAT VANTAS, it’s Friday night, and you are so fucking tense from the past week that it is nothing short of a goddamn miracle you have not shattered into a million pieces yet.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is actually a really old fic, with only minor edits. (i figured it might be nice to have a real homestuck fic up here instead of just that hot mess i wrote as a coping mechanism)
> 
> pure fluff.

Your name is KARKAT VANTAS, it’s Friday night, and you are so fucking tense from the past week that it is nothing short of a goddamn miracle you have not shattered into a million pieces yet.

You arrive home, take off your shoes and hang up your coat, and seek Eridan. He is in your room, still dressed nicely from work in a soft loose shirt and one of those filmy drapey scarves that you refuse to admit that you love. He is reading one of his pretentious books, his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, hair falling soft and loose around his face instead of up in its usual over-gelled swish. He must have showered after work.

He looks up as you enter, a smile blooming on his face. “Hey, Kar,” he says quietly.

“Hey,” you say back, voice low and kind of hoarse from tiredness, and climb into bed with him. You tuck yourself under his arm, thoroughly interrupting any reading he might be inclined to continue. He sets the book aside and gathers you into his arms, and you lean your head on the pillow his scarf creates on his chest. You sigh, deeply and with much pent-up frustration.

“Oh, Kar,” Eridan croons, running his fingers gently through your hair. “Oh, Kar, I know, love.” He continues to murmur sweet things at you, softly, all the while stroking your hair. You press close to him, your legs tangling together with his. He presses a kiss to your temple and you tilt your head up to look at him. He is smiling, just a little, and you feel some of your knots untwist themselves, just at how quiet and comfortable he looks. You kiss him, lightly. He kisses you back, his lips so soft against yours. You melt, just a little, as he runs his hands over your back, untucks your shirt and idly starts drawing circles and hearts across your hips and lower back.

You pull back just slightly to look at him, and he takes your face in his hands. “Hey, lovely,” he breathes.

“Hey, yourself,” you say back, quietly, and he kisses you again, hands falling to your collar to start with the buttons. You almost laugh—you’ve been home for _how long exactly?_ —but you don’t laugh, no, because he is so gentle and earnest and you think he has been waiting for this since he arrived home and so have you, you’ve been dying for this practically since you woke up this morning and he is so gentle, so sweet with you, and you can’t help but wanting.

He finishes with the buttons on your shirt and pushes it off; he runs his hands lightly over your back, your ribs, your stomach; he kisses you lightly a few times, then pulls back to let you settle back against his chest again, continuing to trail his fingers across your skin. You sigh, letting your head fall to the side, against his shoulder.

He takes one of your hands in his, examining it. You watch him through heavy-lidded eyes as he brings it to his mouth and kisses it, thoroughly, all over, each knuckle, every inch. He then, thoughtfully, removes one of his many rings and slides it onto your middle finger. He smiles slightly, apparently liking the look of it, and proceeds to remove all of them from his hands and slide them onto the fingers of yours. The net result is your hands looking ridiculously gaudy and his hands seeming naked. You don’t often see him without his rings; he really only takes them off to sleep or bathe, and it’s odd to see them on your own hands.

He kisses your hands all over again, and looks you straight in the eyes as he does so. You probably melt into a little tiny puddle. Then, he takes your hands and places them on either side of his face, his fingers—long, spindly fingers—wrapped gently around your wrists to hold them there.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says quietly, and you kiss him. You kiss him, you kiss him, you kiss him; and after a time, he kisses his way across your jaw, down to your neck. He litters kisses across your throat; he nips at your earlobe and bites at your collarbone and by the time he is done you are breathing hard and shaking a little and you can feel about three different spots that are probably going to be bruises later. You let him kiss you for a while more until, dizzy, you lean back against his shoulder.

He runs his fingers lightly through your hair, smiling lazily. You blink up at him, smiling back.

“I love you,” you say, almost slurring it; you are nearly drunk on Eridan, his beauty and his love and his touch, just him, and god, oh dear god, is he ever beautiful. “And I love your scarf.” You’re not really sure what possessed you to say that—especially after you totally just swore you never would—but he laughs, and so do you, because it was a silly thing to say in this moment but it’s okay to be silly with him and that’s nice. He’s nice.

“Here,” he says, and removes the scarf; wraps it loosely, artfully around your neck. It’s soft, and sheer, and a light purple. He arranges it carefully, framing instead of covering what is turning into a bruise on your collarbone (and kissing it gently), fussing until it is perfect. “Oh, Kar, you’re so pretty,” he says, running his fingers across the rings on your hands and looking at you, almost reverent. You are afraid to break the moment; you wait for him to move.

Eventually, move he does: he leans in and kisses you, once, so tenderly and sweetly you think you may just dissolve.

“Oh, my Karkat,” he breathes, taking your face in his hands, and your breath catches. You look at him, and then kiss him, very carefully.

“My Eridan,” you murmur against his lips. “Oh, how I love you.”

He exhales, and pulls you close. You bury your face against his neck, breathing in his sweet vanilla scent, and sigh.

You stay there together for a long time.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope u liked it
> 
> comments and kudos cure my depression


End file.
